


Yellow Eyes

by Anghelic



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: F/M, Family, Father-Son Relationship, Single Parents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-07-15 22:53:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7242082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anghelic/pseuds/Anghelic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s not easy being a single parent, but as Ryoma gazes into the yellow eyes of primroses, he’s reminded that her essence is never far away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. She's Not Looking

Through a child’s eyes, the world is nothing but a wondrous space just begging to be explored.

The skies are multicolored and the oceans are vast. Time is precious and people are unique. “Life,” was what the adults called it. This was what it meant to be alive – to learn. To learn about the skies above their heads and to learn about ground beneath their feet. To explore different concepts brought to light.

The adults, however, didn’t think that 5-year-old Shiro would have to explore the concept of death so soon and so gravely.

He sat next to his father in the first row, but was unable to see his mother – only the shiny mahogany box they put her in. A coffin was what he heard Aunt Hinoka call it. As Shiro listened to the man up at the podium speak about his mother, he subconsciously pulled Crimson, his wyvern plushie, closer to his chest.

“...Scarlet was a wonderful, lively person,” the man spoke. He stood straight, hands behind him, and his voice was clear as day. “As a geologist, she was committed to her work, and was one of the best employees I’ve ever had. She was one of the best people I’ve had the pleasure of meeting, and we will all truly miss her.”

If Shiro had the proper words to say, he’d call this entire thing pitiful. The dull clapping, the robotic speeches – all of this felt wrong to him. It was as if no one truly cared. Where was their passion? Where were their hearts? They all just sat there silently, letting their tears roll freely down their cheeks.

This “funeral” was really getting on his nerves. Grandpa Sumeragi said that funerals were supposed to celebrate lives, like a going away party. This was the worst party he’d ever seen. His mother only deserved the best going away party.

Shiro’s body moved before he could really think about what exactly it was he was going to do. There were several people calling his name, but they were all ignored. He made his way up to the podium, causing his mother’s boss’ speech to be cut halfway. He didn’t have a microphone, and he wasn’t sure if everyone could see him properly, but Shiro knew he needed to be up there.

“I just wanted to say, that my mom’s the coolest person out there!” He cried. “She cooks me yummy chicken, and she reads me the best bedtime stories! And she collects the shiniest rocks just for me, so I’m gonna be a geolographer just like her! I dunno where she’s going, but that’s okay. Grownups do lots of stuff I don’t get.”

What he didn’t expect were more people to start breaking out in tears. Even Grandma Ruby began to sob. Shiro didn’t understand. What did he say that was so bad? “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt everyone’s feelings…” he grumbled.

He only wanted to everyone to know how great his mother was. A family friend retrieved him, and sat him next to his father who was hunched over in his chair. Shiro tugged on the sleeve of his suit jacket. “Dad?” He called out to him. ”Hey Dad, why is everyone crying? How come, huh?”

“Shiro, please,” Ryoma spoke slowly. “I need you to be quiet, okay?”

Why did his father sound so broken? “But Dad, I don’t get it. It’s a going away party, right? Then why is everyone sad? Is Mom… not coming back?”

“Dad will explain everything later, okay? But right now, I…” Ryoma’s voice hitched. “I need you to keep quiet. Please, Shiro.”

While he didn’t understand why he had to be quiet, Shiro didn’t like how deflated his father sounded, so he kept his mouth shut as the funeral went on. Before he knew it, they all got to look inside the coffin one by one.

In his father’s arms, Shiro could see his mother’s sleeping face. She looked comfortable in there, but Shiro wondered if she’d have any space to stretch out if she needed to. Although she looked like she’d be warm and comfy in the box, her hands felt cold and stiff.

Soon, Ryoma’s hold on him felt a little tighter, and he looked back to see his father’s face stricken with grief. Shiro’s soft, small hands moved to wipe away Ryoma’s tears. “I know I’m not s’posed to talk, but you don’t have to cry, Dad.”

Ryoma couldn’t answer him verbally. He only nodded.

By the time of Scarlet’s burial, Shiro knew exactly why they were celebrating her life. It was because she didn’t have one anymore. When he learned this, he couldn’t help the tears that rolled down his cheeks either.

* * *

 

The sun peeked out through the little openings of the blinds, shining light on blue carpeting and white, dinosaur patterned sheets. Shiro, who was half awake, could feel a presence over him. His eyes fluttered open, and when his vision wasn’t so blurry, he realized he was face to face with his father.

The young boy groaned, and pulled the blankets over his head.

“Oh no you don’t,” Ryoma said, tearing the blankets from him. “It’s time to get up, son.”

A shiver climbed down his spine and the warmth of his blankets were ripped from him. “Ugh! Dad, it’s too early! Can’t I get five more minutes?” Shiro pleaded.

“I think not! You know exactly why I wake you up this early,” Ryoma lifted his son with ease and placed him over his shoulder. “Come on, Shiro. Who’s going to excavate all those rocks if you don’t wake up early enough to do it?”

“I can do it tomorrow!” Shiro whined.

Ryoma hummed. “Maybe, but today is also the first day of school. And you can’t skip that.” Shiro gave an exasperated sigh. He could have skipped the first day of school, but he wasn’t about to argue that point to his father.

A warm shower was just the thing Shiro needed to properly wake him up. This alert, more excitable Shiro was what Ryoma was more accustomed to. As a towel clad Shiro dashed out of the bathroom and back into his bedroom, Ryoma had to scold him about running in the house. Though, it felt like he was wasting his breath. When was Shiro _not_ running in the house?

“Okay, I’m gonna eat breakfast now!” Shiro cried, running towards the stairs. His father caught him before he could fly down them. “Hey, what gives?”

“Did you even brush your teeth yet?” Ryoma asked. Shad gone quiet for a moment. “…Go brush your teeth.”

“Only if you race me!” He beamed.

Ryoma set his son down and folded his arms across his chest. “Why does everything have to be a race with you? Besides, I’ve already brushed my teeth.”

Shiro rushed to the bathroom and climbed his stepstool before hastily applying toothpaste on his toothbrush. “Cause I have to be the fastest!” There was an unspoken “duh” at the end of that sentence, as if to say that this was common knowledge.

From the mirror’s reflection, Shiro could see his father leaning against the door’s frame. “If you do that, they’ll start to bleed,” Ryoma said.

The smirk on Ryoma’s face came the look of pure horror his son’s face. “Teeth can do that? You’re lying!”

“Would you like to try and find out?”

Shiro brushed his teeth normally, and the two were able to eat breakfast and head out. Just as Ryoma expected, Shiro would linger behind to look for any rocks that would fit in his collection. It ate up a considerable amount of time of their commute to school when Shiro was in kindergarten.

Now that Ryoma knew better this time around, it wasn’t a problem at all. Dealing with Shiro’s crankiness in the morning was worth seeing the bright smile on his face when he picked up a fascinating rock. “Hey Shiro,” Ryoma called out, “Doesn’t this one look nice?”

As Ryoma bent down to pick up the blue tinted rock, Shiro stopped him. “No Dad! We gotta exivate it first.”

Oh right. On his path to becoming a geologist, Shiro also demanded to excavate all the rocks he wanted in his collection. “Alright Shiro,” Ryoma ruffled his hair. “Let’s hurry before school starts.”

Shiro ended up collecting four rocks that morning, which found their way into Ryoma’s pocket since his son was always so distracted by them during school hours. As they reached the school building, Ryoma kneeled down to look his son in the eye.

“First day of first grade. Are you excited?” He asked.

“You bet!” Shiro cried.

“Good. And I want you to be on your best behavior.”

“No promises!” Shiro beamed before rushing off into the school building. After a moment passed, Shiro peeked back out to wave goodbye to his father, and Ryoma waved back. As he stood up, one phrase continued to circle in his mind.

_This was something that Scarlet was supposed to see._

* * *

 

The sounds of her incessant groaning was beginning to tire Ryoma out, especially now that he knew she’d been doing it on purpose. This had been going on for almost an hour now, and although Ryoma considered himself a patient man, he couldn’t let it go on any longer.

When he stepped into the bedroom, his wife greeted him with a mischievous smile. “A-ha! I knew it wouldn’t be long before you ran in here.”

“Scarlet,” he began, “why are you making such a fuss in here?”

She frowned. “Maybe it’s because you have me in here, bedridden. Do you know how horrible it is not being able to move around freely?”

“The doctors said that you shouldn’t move around needlessly. So for your sake, and the baby’s, try to relax.”

Scarlet let out a long sigh, and her husband thought it’d be best to lie beside her and comfort her. “This kid needs to get out. Right now.”

“No, not right now,” Ryoma countered. “You’re very impatient, you know.”

“I know, but I just can’t wait to meet him. Can’t you?” She asked. The look of worry on Ryoma’s face began to frighten her. Ryoma hardly worried about anything. He was always so cool and composed. “Is something wrong? I thought you were excited too.”

Ryoma kept silent for a while, as Scarlet continually ran her fingers through his hair. “I am, but… as shameful as it is to admit it, I’m nervous about all this… about being a father. It’s a huge responsibility and I want to be a good father to my child but…”

As his voice trailed off, Scarlet placed a gentle kiss on her husband’s head. “Hey, don’t sweat it, alright? I’m new to this too, so you’re not alone,” she said. “Besides, we’ll get to share a lot of firsts together too. That’ll be fun.”

Ryoma raised an eyebrow, and Scarlet continued on. “We’ll get to be there for his first word, and when he gets up and takes his first steps.”

“…I suppose we’ll be there for his first birthday as well. Ah, and when he grows his first tooth.”

Scarlet chuckled. “And when he loses his first tooth too.”

Soon, the two of them talk and joke about things from their baby’s first vacation to his first day at school, and everything in between. Raising a child was no easy task, but knowing that Scarlet would be with him every step of the way put his mind at ease.

* * *

 

Ryoma was always reminded of that particular conversation whenever he gazed at the photo of them on Shiro’s first birthday. Slowly, he took the picture frame off of his desk, taking in the happy smiles on their faces – Scarlet’s in particular.

_Shiro definitely got his smile from her,_ Ryoma concluded.

The knock on his opened office door caused him to look up at one of his subordinates. “I was stopping by to give you my report,” she began, but her eyes look towards the picture frame in his hand. “Oh, is that…?”

She didn’t need to say anything more. The entire law firm had heard of Ryoma’s late wife, and even though a full year had passed, it was as if they were walking on eggshells with him. Quietly, her eyes glossed over a few more on top of filing cabinets. “W-wow… your son must have gotten so big since we’ve last seen him. How old is he again?”

“He’s six now,” Ryoma answered. “Since August.”

“Then, he must have started school now. That’s good! I’ll bet that he’ll be as bright you!”

Ryoma smiled. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

“O-oh right! The report! So, this is what our numbers have been showing for these past couple of months…”

As she spoke, Ryoma slowly drowned her voice out with his own thoughts about Scarlet. Maybe he should have taken today off.

* * *

 

Shiro was always a proud little boy, and proud little boys didn’t like to hold their father’s hands any more. At least not until they were a block away from the school building. “Are you afraid that your friends will tease you if you keep holding your father’s hand?” Ryoma asked.

After the first week of school, he noticed that Shiro’s arm would go limp. After the second, he’d felt his son try to pull away from him. Ryoma found it amusing.

“Nah, I don’t care about stuff like that, but it’s kind of lame,” Shiro said, smoothing out his shirt. “You’re kinda messing with my style when you do that?”

_What style?_ Ryoma thought to himself. “Alright then, I won’t hold your hand anymore.”

Shiro frowned. “I mean, it’s okay to do it sometimes… But only sometimes!”

Ryoma let out a light laugh. “Okay, I’ll hold your hand. But only sometimes.”

After a quick hug (quick enough that nobody noticed but long enough to make Shiro feel warm inside), Shiro waved goodbye to his father before they went their separate ways. Today was a good day, because Shiro hadn’t given his father all of the rocks he collected this morning.

He kept the prettiest one all to himself. It was yellow with little brown spots on it, and it was the prettiest one because it reminded him of his mother and those freckles of hers. During class, Shiro would always keep his hand in his pocket as his thumb continued to run over the rock.

During lunch, Shiro was able to look at it more often. It wasn’t as shiny as he originally thought, but it was still the prettiest. He’d make sure that he’d put this one in a different box from all of his other rocks for Crimson to guard.

“Yo, Shiro!” One of his classmates called out to him.

“Whatcha want?” He didn’t even look up at them.

Another one snorted. “Figures. He’s always looking at those rocks.”

Shiro rolled his eyes. What’s it to them anyway? When he looked up, he noticed that three of them had surrounded him. One of the children had a cool robot band aid on his left cheek while another looked like he was chewing on gum. The third one was a little tall for his age. Stuffing the rock back in his pocket, he asked again, “Whatcha want?”

“How come your dad always takes you to school? Why’s it never your mom?” The taller kid asked.

He shrugged. “I don’t have a mom,” he said simply.

The child with the band aid laughed. “Really? You never shut up about your mom and those dumb rocks, and you mean to tell me you don’t have one?”

“Haha, what’d she do, leave you and your dad? It’s probably cause you’re so annoying!” The taller one laughed.

“Hey, don’t you think that’s going too far?” The other child cut in.

“Don’t be stupid, Asugi. You don’t think he’s annoying? Yelling ‘rocks this,’ and ’my mom,’ that! No one cares!”

As they chattered away, the flowers outside the window caught his attention. They reminded him of something his mother told him a while back.

* * *

 

“You look so happy Mom, is it cause of those flowers?” Shiro asked, peeking over her shoulder.

Scarlet grinned. “Sure are kiddo! They’re called primroses, and they’re my favorite. Especially the white ones. Your dad gets them for me all the time.”

They sure were pretty, sitting in a vase like that. What really interested him was its yellow center. “Hey Mom, why’s the middle yellow?”

“Oh that?” She asked. “That’s the flower’s yellow eye.”

“Yellow eye?” Shiro parroted.

His mother nodded. “Mhmm! And guess what? They’re all my eyes! They help me see in other places.”

Shiro gasped. “That can’t happen! You can’t have more than two eyes!”

“Oh, but I can. And I can prove it. I saw when you were playing with your soccer ball in the house yesterday, ya little scamp!” She cried, giving her son a light noogie in the process.”

“Wha? But you weren’t there!”

“I wasn’t. But my flowers saw you, so I saw you!”

* * *

 

Shiro remembered how amazed he was that she could see everything through those yellow eyes. Gazing at the flowers once more, he concluded that even though those flowers has yellow eyes too, they weren’t primroses.

So, they weren’t his mother’s eyes.

That meant that his mother didn’t get to see that moment in time where her son used all his strength to punch another child square in the face.

* * *

 

The icepack against his throbbing right eye stung terribly, but his father insisted he keep it there, saying that it’d reduce the swelling. Shiro’s head hurt, his arms were weak, and his right hand was freezing. To top it all, his father’s constant back and forth pacing wasn’t helping his mood.

And looking at his son’s beat up face wasn’t doing much for Ryoma’s mood either, so he did his best not to look at him. His heart stopped when he was called out of a meeting to be told that his son had gotten into a fight at school.

Here he thought that in these past few months, Shiro had been making friends. His pacing came to a halt, and Shiro’s posture stiffened. “Why did you put your hands on another student, Shiro?” When his question had earned him no response, Ryoma could feel his patience thinning. “I’m asking you a question, Shiro.”

“I know,” he shot back.

The tone wasn’t appreciated, but Ryoma pressed on anyway. “Then answer me. Why did you hit that child?”

“Because he pissed me off!” Shiro cried.

“Hey,” Ryoma scolded. “Watch your language!”

Shiro huffed. “You asked me why, and I told you.”

Ryoma let out a sigh of exasperation. “Shiro, you can’t just hit people when they make you angry. That’s not okay.” Shiro sat there silently, turning his head away from his father’s narrowed gaze. “Alright, that’s it. I’m taking away those video games.”

The icepack slipped from his grasp and hit the floor with a loud thud. “Why!? I didn’t do anything wrong!” He cried, rocketing up from the couch.

“I just got through telling you why. You cannot hit other people just because you’re upset,” Ryoma said. “Hand me the ones you have on your room.”

“But I didn’t do anything wrong, this isn’t fair!” Shiro cried.

“I’m not going to tell you again, Shiro!” Ryoma shot back, his patience finally gone.

Shiro’s cheeks had puffed up in anger before storming upstairs. The slamming of his bedroom door soon followed. Ryoma was quick to call him out. “What did I say about slamming doors in this house!?” He cried.

His son’s only response was to scream as loud and as hard as he could, and Ryoma plopped down onto the couch in pure frustration. His hands moved to massage his temples. Ryoma hadn’t expected this to be easy, but he didn’t think he’d be at such a loss of what to do so soon.

Was he doing the right thing? Were his frustrations and concerns justified?

His son neglected to tell him anything about his little scrap, and became irate when his punishment was handed down. How could he effectively explain to a child that his behavior had been offensive without him getting angry?

Ryoma ran a hand through his brown tresses, and a long sigh escaped him. Was he supposed to approach this differently? Maybe it would have been best to give Shiro some time to rest before confronting him about the fight.

He could definitely feel a headache coming on.

* * *

 

With his head cleared and nerves in check, Ryoma lightly knocked on Shiro’s door. There was no response, but when he tried the doorknob, he was relieved to know that Shiro hadn’t locked himself inside. He opened the door just enough to be able to peek in. Although the lights were off, he could see his son’s silhouette sitting on the bed.

“…May I come in?”

Shiro sighed. “So you can take my games away? I packed them up already.”

“No, I just want to talk to you,” Ryoma said. “So, may I come in?”

He shrugged, and Ryoma took this as an okay to enter. He removed one of Shiro’s pillows to sit down on the bed, taking note of how wet it was. _He’d been crying,_ Ryoma thought. “I still want to talk about what happened at school.”

“I already told you,” Shiro said hoarsely. “They made me mad.”

Ryoma bit down on his lip momentarily. “How did they make you angry?”

“They made fun of me cause I don’t have a mom anymore…” he croaked, and Ryoma could feel his heart sink into the pit of his stomach. “They laughed at me, and they made fun of her too… So it’s fair, right? What I did was fair cause they can’t say that… right…?”

“Shiro…” Ryoma spoke as he embraced his son. The only words that were able to leave his mouth were, “I’m sorry…”

It was wrong of those children to speak to Shiro like that, but on the other hand, he couldn’t go around punching everyone who insulted him. As Ryoma explained it as delicately as possible, Shiro didn’t once lash out or become angry. It was safe to say that he understood.

“…Those kids suck,” Shiro murmured, causing Ryoma to chuckle.

“I suppose they do.”

With a soft kiss on Shiro’s head, Ryoma promised to become the best father he possibly could.


	2. She Sees All

Shiro’s suspension from school only lasted a week, however, he felt as if he’d been gone for months. The feeling of hopelessness in the pit of his stomach grew increasingly over the course of the school day. It started during homeroom, when his teacher welcomed him back in a rather less than welcoming tone of voice.

It was dripping in apprehension, and her eyes seemed to be looking through him. The eyes of his classmates bored holes right into him. They lingered on him during English, and he could see a few curious glances tossed his way during mathematics.

The feeling in his stomach worsened during lunch time. Not only did he feel weighed down by the judging eyes of his peers, but their words were starting to gnaw at him. They’d stand in corners and in groups of three or four, whispering about him as if he really couldn’t hear them.

“He’s so scary,” they’d whisper. “He’s not so tough, just look at his eye.”

“Watch out! If he hears us, he’ll punch us next!”

Shiro felt like a monster. Was he really wrong when he fought his classmate? Their words had hurt him so badly, but no one ever mentioned that. They all spoke about the amount of blood dripping from his knuckles, and the way his arms moved to swing his desk around.

They all spoke about his anger and frustrations, but no one cared to ask where they came from. No one bothered to understand him. Shiro balled up his hands into fists, and his fingernails dug into the palms of his hands.

The murmuring about his tightened fists weren’t helping his mood either. If anything, they broke him. His father had taught him right from wrong – he’d never put his hand on another person again. So why were they anticipating rowdy behavior from him? Why were they waiting for him to punch something? Or _someone_?

His eyes were beginning to sting.

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna start crying,” someone spoke up. “How lame.”

Shiro’s gaze quickly shifted from his fists (that were now beginning to loosen) to the child standing at the side of his desk. He stood akimbo, and one of the first things Shiro noticed about him was the large Band-Aid on his cheek. Then it was the lollipop stick that poked out of his mouth.

The face was very familiar. He was one of the ones that confronted him about his rocks last week. Some of his classmates gasped. “Woah, Asugi’s so brave,” one said in awe.

Another chuckled. “You’d better watch your back. Maybe you’ll get punched this time.”

Now that they mentioned it, he wasn’t there when the fight was going on. Otherwise, Shiro was sure that he would have punched him too, because of his association with the others. His hands fell to his sides, and he finally opened his mouth to speak. “Where did you go when I fought your friends?” He asked.

Asugi moved to sit on top of Shiro’s desk, kicking his feet rhythmically. “I left to go get the teacher. A two versus one fight isn’t fair… Unless you’re Captain Arthur.”

Shiro rolled his eyes. “Of course a two versus one fight isn’t fair. Even if you are Captain Arthur. You need at least 20 people against him to make it fair – wait what am I saying? Why are you even here?” He huffed.

“I wanted to see how you were doing,” Asugi answered nonchalantly. “Man, your eye looks awful. Darn, guess I wasn’t fast enough.”

“Shut up about my eye already,” Shiro said defensively as Asugi laughed. “Besides, your cheek looks just as bad! What happened to it?”

Asugi’s fingers moved to touch his cheek lightly. “Oh, this… I got when Kenta punched me the other day.”

Shiro frowned. “Your friend punched you? For what?”

“I went to go get the teacher, weren’t you listening before?” He asked. “He found out about what I did, and he hit me. On top of sticking up for you too, I guess.”

How awful. Shiro didn’t really have anyone he could call a friend at school, but he’d rather that than a terrible one who’d hit him for deciding not being a complete jerk. “Did you at least hit him back?” Shiro asked. Although his father said that starting fights was wrong, he never said anything about finishing them.

Asugi grinned. “I got him right in the nose.”

Over time, their small chuckles melded into roars of laughter, and any feelings of hopelessness Shiro had in the pit of his stomach now vanished. “Oh yeah! I meant to give you this,” Asugi said, fishing in his pocket.

Once he found what he was looking for, he placed it into Shiro’s hand. “It’s cause you love rocks so much.”

Shiro was excited about his gift, but his face fell flat when he realized what exactly Shiro handed him. “…It’s candy.”

A smirk graces Asugi’s lips. “Not _just_ candy. It’s rock candy! I saw it at the store yesterday and begged my dad to buy it. Do you know how hard it is to get him to do that? Very hard!”

Upon hearing this, Shiro gazed at the bag in awe. “Rock candies? Woah, there are a whole bunch of different colors in here! Where do they get this stuff from anyway?”

“Gosh, what’s wrong with you?” Asugi frowned. “Do you have rocks in your ears too? I just said I got it from the store!”

“No, dummy!” Shiro cried. “Where’s it come from before they get it in the store? It’s gotta come from somewhere.”

Asugi sat quietly for a moment in deep thought. “That’s… a good question. Maybe from a cave? Like where other rocks come from?”

“A candy cave?”

“Mmm, candy cave…” Asugi licked his lips. “Okay, since you do all that stuff about rocks, maybe you’ll find it one day. And when you do, you gotta share it with me!”

Shiro chuckled. “It’s a deal!”

* * *

 

Saturday mornings were usually spent in front of the television, watching the newest episode of Captain Arthur while eating cereal in tidy whiteys. In Ryoma’s case, they were usually boxers. Shiro would always have some kind of sugary type of cereal with a prize at the bottom of the box while Ryoma settled for a regular bargain brand.

The familiar catchphrase, “Beware my fists of justice,” along with the usual crashing and clanging of swords and axes filled Ryoma’s ears. “You know,” he began, “I never really understood Arthur.”

Shiro, who never took his eyes from the television screen, furrowed his brow. “Whadaya mean?”

“Well, the only reason Captain Arthur ever defeats the villain is by accident, or because of Percy, Boy Wonder,” Ryoma explained. “Why is the show not called _Percy, Boy Wonder_ instead? It’d make much more sense.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about Dad,” Shiro responded.

Just then, Captain Arthur, who had been attacking an enemy, tripped over his own two feet and fell. On his way down, he accidentally yanked off the pants of his enemy, causing him to be distracted. Percy, Boy Wonder, acted fast and took this distraction to quickly and effectively take him out.

Ryoma jabbed his finger at the television, talking over his son’s laughter. “See? Captain Arthur didn’t even do much that time. It was all Percy.”

“Aww, Dad! That’s Captain Arthur’s famous _Pants Down, Defense Down_ technique!” Shiro beamed.

“Who actually has a technique like that?” Ryoma asked, quite unimpressed.

“Captain Arthur, duh.”

His father frowned. “I know that, Shiro.”

“Then why’d you ask?”

The noogie that came right after the words left his lips was unexpected, and Shiro let out a shrill laugh. “Don’t get smart with me!” Ryoma cried, as the corners of his lips began to twitch upwards.

Once the dishes had been washed up, and the two of them have had their own showers, Shiro suggested they go out into the back yard to look for rocks. It was another Saturday morning tradition, one that Ryoma picked up when Scarlet was unable to do it anymore.

It was heavy at first. Shiro was quick to remind him that he and his mother usually did this together, and how much he was going to miss rock hunting with her. However, Shiro did say that it’d make him happy if his father joined him, and Ryoma was relieved.

He’d never be able to replace Scarlet, he and Shiro both knew that, but Ryoma refused to let his son’s happiness die out along with her. He took such joy in seeing the little sparkle in Shiro’s eyes when he’d found a rock he thought looked awesome.

His lips would part to reveal little white teeth, and his dirt-covered cheeks would become rosy. He’d hold the rock up to the sun to get an even better look at them, and was happiest when they’d shimmer in its light.

“Dad,” Shiro called out. “How come you’re looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face?”

Ryoma let out a low chuckle. “You do have something on your face, but that’s not why I was looking at you. You’re growing up to be such a good kid. I just wanted your mom to see it too.”

Shiro’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “But she can see me. I mean, she probably hasn’t seen me in a while, but she can.”

“What are you talking about, Shiro?” Ryoma asked.

“I’m talking about the flowers!” He grinned. “The ones you used to buy her all the time! They’re called primroses.”

Upon hearing its name, Ryoma gasped. Those were the same flowers he’d give her anniversary after anniversary. The same ones that she requested be present at their wedding. The irony of its meaning wasn’t lost on him.

_I can’t live without you._

It was exactly what he’d been trying to convey to her when he asked for her hand in marriage. To let a woman like her slip through his fingers would be foolish. When he purchased the ring, thoughts of a life without her sounded bleak and lonely.

And he was correct. Things were pretty lonely without her. However, his son’s smile always helped him work past it each morning. “How will those flowers work?” Ryoma asked.

“Once, Mom told me that she could see everything I did from her flowers,” Shiro explained. “She said it’s cause they have yellow eyes, so they help her to see when she’s not around.”

“Is that so?” Ryoma laughed, ruffling his son’s hair. He didn’t have the heart to tell his son that it was a trick to make him behave while by himself, especially since he was more concerned with having his mother watch him grow. Ryoma’s smile grew a bit somber. “Well, the flower shop will be open all day today. We can stop by and pick up as many as we’d like.”

Shiro jumped to his feet. “Woah, Dad! Are you serious? Can we?”

“Yes. Once you wash up, of course,” he said.

“What? I have to wash up again?” Shiro huffed. “How come?”

“Because you’re all dirty, you little munchkin.”

Normally, Shiro would have complained about taking more showers than necessary in one day. This time, the young boy marched right back into the house, ready to clean up and head out. The desire to have his mother see how he was growing was much more important than throwing a fit over having to shower again.

It honestly warmed Ryoma’s heart. Shiro was growing up to be such a kind and thoughtful little boy. Although brash at times, Ryoma knew that his heart was always in the right place. “You’re a good kid, Shiro,” Ryoma thought aloud. “Please, continue to be as compassionate as you are now.”

“Dad! Are you ready yet!?” Shiro called from inside. “We gotta get going or else the flowers’ll be all gone!”

“Alright, alright!” Ryoma called back. “The flowers aren’t going anywhere, Shiro!

* * *

 

Thirteen.

The number of primroses they purchased from the bubbly sales woman at the flower shop. As soon as they pulled into the driveway, Ryoma suddenly remembered vases, and how they needed to buy some. Then he promptly pulled out of the driveway.

The ones they picked out were crystal clear and oh so shiny. Shiro marveled at how pretty they were when the sunlight hit them the entire car ride home. The incentive not to play ball in the house was much stronger now.

Ryoma took the task of putting water in the vases, and Shiro had the pleasure of placing the flowers inside. In the living room, three sat on a recently polished end table. Two were placed on the kitchen table, overlooking the countertop while two more watched the downstairs hallway.

When the two of them reached upstairs, they simultaneously looked into the bathroom before shaking their heads. “Not a good idea, huh?” Ryoma asked.

“Nah,” Shiro said. “’Sides, I’d feel weird if Mom had to see me crapping on the toilet.”

His father gave him a light and playful shove. “Watch your mouth,” Ryoma laughed, as Shiro sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. With that, they decided to divide the rest of the flowers equally; two in the upstairs hall, two in Ryoma’s bedroom, and two in Shiro’s.

Ryoma watched quietly as Shiro looked directly into the flower’s eyes. He waved at them before making his best funny face. It was one thing to do things in front of the flowers, but Shiro wondered if his mother could hear him as well. She didn’t say anything about the flowers having ears.

“Dad,” Shiro started, “do you think Mom’ll hear me if I say something to the flowers?”

His father placed his large hand gently on Shiro’s shoulder, and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I’m not sure, son,” he answered. “But… it doesn’t hurt to try. What would you like to say to her?”

Shiro hummed in thought for a moment. “Uh, hi mom. I dunno if you can hear me, but I know you can see me and I got super big, right? I’ll be as big as Dad soon!” He boasted, and Ryoma stifled a chuckle. “Oh! And I met this really cool kid at school! He gave me rock candy! Isn’t that awesome? I’m gonna find some in a candy cave and collect it!”

Ryoma’s smiling face fell. “Is that why I’ve been seeing so many ants lately? Because you leave candy lying about?”

“…I’ll talk to you more about it later,” he whispered to the flowers.

“ _Shiro,_ ” His father scolded.

“Dad! Don’t be a sourpuss!” Shiro huffed “You have to talk to Mom too!”

Shiro’s words threw him off guard. Talk to Scarlet? What exactly was he supposed to say to her? As he fell quiet, Shiro gave his father the push he needed. “Don’t be shy, Mom wants to hear from you too. Tell her anything you want.”

Ryoma nodded. “I guess it’s worth a shot, huh?” He took a moment to slowly breathe in, and then out, in an attempt to slow his quick heartbeat. Speaking was hard to do when just looking at these flowers overwhelmed him with thoughts of her. “Scarlet… It’s been difficult without you, but we’re trying our hardest every day. We love you, and… we miss you.”

Shiro was quick to wrap his arms around his father. “It’s okay Dad, don’t be sad. I bet Mom’s really happy you said something to her!”

“Heh, you think so?” Ryoma smiled weakly.

“I know so!” His son cried. “Oh yeah! I still need to talk to Mom about –”

“No you don’t,” Ryoma cut in. “ _We_ need to talk about those rock candies.” As miffed as Shiro was about finding out the truth about rock candies, he took great pleasure in just being able to eat them. The new ones that his father purchased at the store, that is.

Now, Ryoma couldn’t get Shiro to stop talking to the flowers about how yummy they were.

The primroses seemed to make their home feel a little brighter over time. Ryoma and Shiro would always go out and replace the ones that had died with ones that were freshly watered and cut. Those yellow eyes watched Captain Arthur with them every Saturday, and sat with them at the dinner table each evening.

They watched Shiro’s seventh birthday party and saw him off on his first day of second grade. Yellow eyes saw the twinkle in his eyes while opening presents on Christmas morning, and saw each and every rock that Shiro picked up for an entire year, and then some.

Though, those yellow eyes could never see when Shiro was being crafty.

“Why’d you turn that vase a different direction?” Asugi asked upon entering the kitchen.

Shiro gave a sheepish grin. “Hehehe, force of habit… ‘Sides, you never know who’s watching!”

Asugi’s face scrunched up. “Who’d be watching? The flowers?”

“Maybe,” Shiro stuck his tongue out.

“You’re a weirdo!” Asugi laughed. “C’mon, are you gonna climb up or what? Hurry before your dad gets back!”

The two boys always planed a “Raid the Kitchen” mission during sleepovers, and would scour every pantry and kitchen drawer before sneaking back to their “Home Base,” as they liked to call it. Asugi lent a hand in getting Shiro on the countertop before serving as lookout.

After doing this for a few months now, Shiro liked to call himself a pro. He’d quickly pick out which snacks were good enough to eat before tossing them onto a pillow on the floor to help reduce noise. Once Shiro gave the okay, Asugi would stuff the snacks into the pillow case and help Shiro down.

And just like that, they were home free.

Or so they thought. As they were digging through their bag of loot, there was a knock at Shiro’s bedroom door, followed his father’s voice. “You can move the flowers around all you want, but _I_ can still see you. Now hand them over.”

Both boys groan in defeat as the open the door to hand over their snacks to a very smug looking Ryoma. To their surprise, Ryoma fished in the pillow case before tossing a bag of chips to Asugi. “You two can share those.”

“Awwright!” The boys cheered as Ryoma left to put the rest of the snacks away.

Those boys were something else – the thought of their antics made him chuckle. His smile faded only when thoughts of his late wife came back to hound him once more.

* * *

 

The night of their first kiss had still been so clear to him even after all those years. It was the summer after sophomore year, and to celebrate the end of finals, Scarlet suggested they spend the day at the park.

At the time, 19-year-old Ryoma couldn’t fathom why she’d want to hang out with him there, but he was positive that she didn’t want to take him on some relaxing picnic by the stream. When they met up, she’d come dressed in a white tank top, running shorts and a baseball cap of their college’s mascot, the Dawn Dragon.

When she saw his eyes look from the catcher’s mitts underneath her right arm to the baseball in her left hand, she grinned. “You always had quite the throwing arm, but I want to see how great of a catcher you are. Hopefully not as good as me.”

No doubt about it, Shiro got his competitiveness from his mother.

Still, Ryoma hardly backed down from a challenge, and the two of them spent the entire day running around in the heat of the day tossing a baseball back and forth with all of their might. Ryoma didn’t think he’d ever laughed so hard in his entire life when Scarlet almost hit an innocent biker.

During the evening, when most had packed up and gone home for the day, Scarlet suggested hanging out just a little longer. She wasn’t in a rush to go home, and neither was he. They sat next to each other on the swing sets, lightly swinging side to side as their knees occasionally bumped into each other.

The day’s sweat and grime clung to their skin, as did their clothes, but neither one minded. However the two of them did anticipate a nice, cool shower after their outing. Scarlet teased him. “You’ll have to wait for your entire family to get done before you go in.”

“Ah, the perks of being an only child, huh?” Ryoma smirked. “It’s a good thing I have the perks of being the oldest.”

She snorted. “What an abuse of power.”

“I thought we agreed to call them perks. Besides, they’ve probably already washed up. It’s kind of late.”

“Late?” Scarlet asked with a raised eyebrow. “It’s only 8 o’clock! Please, I can show you what late really is.”

He smiled. “Are you saying that you want to take me out on the town? I’m flattered.”

“So it’s a date?” Scarlet said with a wink. When Ryoma fell silent, she laughed. “Relax, I’m only teasing you!”

“Was this not a date?” He asked, and it was Scarlet’s turn to fall silent as a small blush spread across her face. “Oh, was it actually a date?”

“Ryoma, you jerk!” She cried. “God, I think I’d tell you if it was actually a date! Stop messing with me!”

At her outburst, Ryoma had to laugh. “Sorry, sorry. But, if I’m being honest, I’d like to take you on one. I mean it.”

Scarlet bit down on her bottom lip. “You… really are blunt about it, huh?”

“Of course. It’s important to tell others how you feel,” Ryoma explained. “I’d like to know how you feel. About a date, that is.”

It was the first time he’d ever seen her so flustered, and subconsciously, he reached out to touch her freckled shoulder. Her eyes met his reassuring ones, and she was able to relax herself a bit. “Since we’re being honest here, I’ve always wanted to go one with you.”

His eyes softened at her words. “So it’s a date,” he confirmed. She nodded. “If we’re still being honest, I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to kiss you.”

“ _R-Ryoma!_ ” Scarlet gasped.

“I thought I said that it’s important –”

“To tell others how you feel. Yeah, yeah. But… maybe this time, it’d be more effective to show me.”

Everything after her words felt like slow motion to him. The way that his hand left her shoulder to caress her cheek, and the way that they leaned into each other had been so painstakingly slow. When their lips finally connected, Ryoma remembered the tingly feeling he got, and how mesmerized he was by the look on her face when they broke apart.

He longed to feel something like that again, but when his brother suggested he get back into the dating game, he wasn’t so sure. Wouldn’t it have been wrong to do that to her? Besides, Ryoma didn’t think he had it in him to love someone else the way he loved her.

“It’s been over two years now,” Takumi’s words still play over in his mind. “No one is going to judge you for wanting some romance in your life. It’s perfectly normal.”

Even if it was normal, Ryoma wasn’t so sure that he could effectively move on. Alone in his bed, Ryoma’s eyes travel to the primroses on his night table. She can’t see him, and she certainly can’t hear him, but the words slip past his lips anyway.

“…What would you do… if you were in my position?” He asked quietly. “Would you be angry at me for searching again?”

Silence enveloped the bedroom once more before Ryoma heaved a heavy sigh. He was just so lost in all of this, and too confused to even think straight. “Maybe…” he mumbled to himself, “a date or two won’t hurt.”

* * *

 

Inside of his backpack, Shiro could point out his pajamas, an extra pair of clothes, some snacks and… “ _Homework!?_ ” He cried in disbelief. “Who does homework on a Saturday? Who does homework at a sleepover!? Who does homework at a _sleepover_ _on Saturday!?_ ”

Ryoma merely shooed Shiro’s hand away from the bag. “You, that’s who. I was told by Asugi’s father that’d he’d get you two to work on it. You and I both know that we don’t like working on it Sunday night right before your bedtime.”

Shiro let out a groan as his father zipped up his backpack. “This is so unfair!”

“Whine all you want, but it’s happening, Shiro,” Ryoma said. “Now you have everything you need in there. Pajamas, extra clothes, toothbrush and snacks, because I don’t want to hear about the two of you getting into pantries again.”

He rolled his eyes. “Not like there was anything good in the panties the last time anyway.”

“ _Pantries,_ ” Ryoma corrected as Shiro begrudgingly shouldered on his bag. The honking of the car outside their window meant that Asugi and Saizo were here. “Alright, that’s them. Be good, okay?”

Shiro gave him a thumbs up. “You got it, Dad!” He cried before running out of the house towards the black car parked right in front of their home. He scampered into the back of the seat before waving goodbye to his father.

Ryoma waved back, and stood watch at the doorway until the car was out of sight. Now that he knew his son was in capable hands, it was one less thing that he needed to worry about. Tonight, he’d agreed on a date night at his home, and while he initially wanted to call it off, Ryoma thought he’d give it just one more chance.

Orochi was her name and he met a few months back at a business party, but they hadn’t started dating until a few weeks ago. She a very clever woman, and witty to boot. She always walked with an air of confidence about her. She was a playful one, but grew serious when the situation called for it.

She was a lovely woman, Ryoma admitted, but even so, she couldn’t hold a candle to the woman that Scarlet was. He hadn’t meant to compare the two of them, but every time he had been with Orochi, thoughts of his late wife would circle in his mind.

 _Scarlet would have loved to try this_ or _If this were Scarlet, she would have laughed uncontrollably_. He’d begun to think that this was all hopeless and maybe he should tell her that this wasn’t going to work out. Though, a part of him did want to try just once more.

Maybe something was bound to happen tonight. Something that would give him the kind of spark that Scarlet did. It didn’t seem like it would happen though. Between him and Orochi sat the dining table, their dinner, and the slight awkwardness between them.

Well, the awkwardness seemed to be on his part anyway.

Orochi was completely engaged in this. She did a good job of keeping up conversation and was always interested in what he had to say. Ryoma truly felt awful about not being able to give her his all, since that’s what she’d been doing for him.

His steady sips of wine weren’t him helping either.

“Ryoma?” Orochi spoke. “Is everything alright? You look a little… worn-out.”

“I’m fine, really. It’s just…” he trailed off before sinking his teeth into his bottom lip. Why were the words so difficult to find right now? “Things have been a little rough for me lately. But I… honesty, I wouldn’t want to burden you with them.”

She sat her wine glass town on the table, and looked at him with sympathetic eyes. “Please, if there’s anything I can do to help, even if it’s just to lend an ear, I’d me more than willing.” How kind of her, but this wasn’t something that Ryoma could put into words so easily, and he couldn’t promise that he’s able to speak without dropping his feelings on her like a weight.

“I really do appreciate it, Orochi, but I’m not sure –”

The sudden sound of the front door opening caught Ryoma and Orochi’s attention, and Ryoma excused himself before leaving the table to check the door. “Shiro?” He asked, surprised.

“Yo!” He replied.

“Why are you back so soon? Did something happen?”

Shiro began to take of his shoes. “Yup! Some emergency happened with Asugi’s uncle and they had to go, so they took me back,” he sighed. Once his shoes were off, he walked towards his father. “Won’t lie, I’m kinda bummed about it, but you forgot to pack Crimson, so I get to see her again.”

Upon entering the kitchen, Shiro’s eyes fell on the woman sitting at their kitchen table. “Uh… who’s she?” He asked, a little put off by the stranger in his home.

Ryoma cleared his throat. “Shiro, this is Orochi.”

“Oh, hello Shiro!” She smiled before moving to stand before him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Your father’s told me a bit about you.”

For some reason, it was getting hard for Shiro to breathe. His eyes darted from the woman before him to the primroses on the table. His fists tightened and his brow furrowed in anger. “Oh yeah? Well, did he tell you that he’s married too!?”

Orochi gasped, and her eyes moved from Shiro’s face to Ryoma’s look of shock. “N-no… You’re married? And you didn’t think that was important to tell me?”

“Shiro,” said Ryoma sternly. He reached out to grab Shiro’s shoulder, but he slapped it away.

“No, don’t touch me! You’re the worst, why would you do that to her!? Do you hate her now or something!?”

Ryoma’s eyes narrowed, and if the creases in his brow weren’t evident that he was upset with Shiro’s outburst, then his booming voice left no room for doubt. “ _Excuse you?_ Shiro, don’t you _ever_ let those words come out of your mouth again, do you hear me?”

Although his father had been fierce, Shiro wasn’t willing to back down. “Why? So your girlfriend won’t hear me?”

“Okay, I need to go,” Orochi spoke, grabbing her purse. “Don’t call me tomorrow. Please.”

Ryoma made no attempt to seek her out or explain the situation. His focus was solely on his son. “You don’t know what’s going on!”

“I don’t need to! I know what I saw!” He cried before marching up to his bedroom. He was quick to lock the door, because his father was close behind. When he’d realized he was locked out, his fists his the door so many times that Shiro swore it’d come off of its hinges.

Though, that didn’t matter. What did matter was the fact that his father had brought another woman into the house right in front of his mother’s eyes. Shiro looked towards the primroses by his window. Softly, he said, “I’m so sorry he made you see that.”

 


	3. Don't Look at Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't written for this in so long that I almost forgot what I was writing, lol. Enjoy!

Ever since last week, Ryoma felt as if he'd been drowning in his feelings of exasperation and fatigue. Between his son's defiant behavior, work, and being unable to properly explain the situation to Orochi, these past few days had been exceptionally taxing on his mind, body and soul.

Meditation didn't seem to be working, especially since every conversation with Shiro ended in shouting and door slamming, and work wasn't exactly such a great escape from his miserable life. His only source of some type of relief was being able to vent to Takumi, and if his younger brother hadn't called to ask how things when last weekend, Ryoma would have left everything bottled up inside.

With his cellphone between his ear and shoulder as his eyes glazed over documents he considered only semi-important, Ryoma listened to Takumi voice his complete and utter shock of his rather hairy situation.

"He _said_ that to her?" cried Takumi. "I knew he took Scarlet's passing pretty hard but… damn. Did you at least talk to your date?"

"Haven't spoken to her since," said Ryoma in a dreary voice. Before his brother could even protest, Ryoma spoke up once more. "She doesn't want to talk to me, and I don't think anything that I'd manage to say anything to her that would rectify the situation."

"You've got to be kidding," said Takumi. "At least explain about Scarlet. Actually, why didn't you mention her in the first place?"

Ryoma let out a small sigh. Opening up about Scarlet about all this time was difficult enough, so while mentioning Shiro, Ryoma had told Orochi that he was a single father. By that time, the two of them had only known each other for a couple of hours, so Orochi probably didn't think to ask why they weren't together.

And it wasn't like he hadn't thought of explaining things to her, it's just that his rather strained relationship with his son took the front seat in his life right now. "I… couldn't will myself to go in detail about her. A stupid mistake on my part, it would have saved me a lot of trouble, but my main concern right now is Shiro."

"Right… What have you said to him about it?"

"I can't even get a word in," said Ryoma. "I'm trying to make it clear that I wasn't trying to replace Scarlet or that I'm not trying to hurt him, but he won't listen to me. Should I have tried to explain this before getting into dating again?"

Takumi hummed in thought. "I'm… not really sure. I mean, you just met her after all. It's not like you knew if she'd permanently be in your life or not, so it'd be pointless to introduce some new woman to Shiro if she wasn't. How everything played out was terrible luck."

"Or it's a sign that I probably shouldn't date again," said Ryoma, much to his younger brother's disliking. "Say what you want, but you and I both know it's true."

Not only was he indifferent to getting back in the dating game, but Shiro was vehemently against it, thinking it to be an insult to his mother, and that was enough of a reason for Ryoma to give up. He should have been focusing on work and his seven-year-old son that he was struggling to get along with, and not off on dates with pretty women at 10 at night.

"I'm sorry, I thought it was my job to be mopey, not yours," said Takumi in an attempt to get his brother in a better mood. Between the two of them, Takumi was always more likely to shut himself in his room and sulk over a girl for days on end.

Ryoma always found it strange, considering how popular he was with girls back in his youth.

A small smile appeared across his lips. "I think the most memorable time was when Oboro's father got a new job opportunity three towns over, and moved away. You were so beside yourself–"

"Okay! Okay!" Takumi cut in quickly. "We don't have to bring up old, embarrassing stuff, thanks." Ryoma's small chuckling was a small breakthrough for Takumi, even if it was at his expense. "Listen, I don't want you to throw yourself in a relationship, but I want you to try new things and be happy. And I'm positive Scarlet wouldn't want to see you in this state. Try and explain yourself to your date. I'm sure you can at least salvage a friendship out of it."

It was refreshing to hear Takumi say something that cheered him up a bit. "Thank you, Takumi. I honestly appreciate it. And… I will talk to her." Orochi didn't have to speak with him after he explained himself, but he at least owed her an explanation.

Just as Ryoma was about to speak, his phone made a small beeping sound, indicating that he was receiving another call. Ryoma removed his cellphone from his ear, and the sight of his son's school calling him in the middle of the school day was slightly alarming.

"Takumi… I have to call you back later," said Ryoma before hastily picking up the other phone call. Ryoma prayed to himself that Shiro wasn't in any danger, and luckily he wasn't. However, a fight broke out between he and another student, and Ryoma would have to leave work early to come pick him up.

Immediately, Ryoma's mind flew into panic on his way out of the building. Had the other kids been teasing him again? Was he trying to defend himself? With his friendship with Asugi, Ryoma was sure that the two of them would keep each other out of trouble. At least during school hours anyway. What went wrong?

Upon entering the principal's office, Ryoma saw his son sitting on a chair, virtually unharmed, but the drops of blood on his t-shirt spoke volumes about what transpired today. Ryoma also didn't think he'd hear about his son hitting another child simply because he felt like it.

* * *

Shiro and Asugi – Shirasagi Elementary School's Devilish Duo.

That's what teachers and students alike were calling the two of them. They never focused inside the classroom, as they pulled pranks from filling the teacher's desk drawer with creepy crawly critters to making stink bombs that forced the entire class into the hallway.

During gym class, the two were aggressive in any sports they played. Always MVPs, the school children would fight over which devil they wanted on their team. Their rough play would get them benched, or even sent to the principal's office if another student was injured in the process, and that happened too many times to count.

The most notorious thing about the two of them were the fights they picked around free period and after school. Whether it was a squabble in the hallway, or a full out brawl on the playground, the teachers had such a difficult time breaking them all up.

The fact that they were a duo didn't help either. Whenever one had gotten into trouble, the other would join in, and they were never far apart. The phone calls to Ryoma's home and work phones were getting ridiculous. Teachers complained nonstop, and the stories they'd tell would always come as a shock to Ryoma.

His son, who he knew to be compassionate and friendly, argued with his teachers and peers for no reason? How could he do such a thing? Why would he do such a thing?

When he'd address the situation at home, the only answer Ryoma ever got was, "Because I was angry."

Ryoma's brow creased in confusion, and annoyance. "Because you were angry?" he repeated. " _Because you were_ _angry?_ Shiro, that's not a good enough reason to go out hurting people! We've talked about this before!"

Shiro, whose stance was already defensive, put a scowl on his face. "Why are you yelling at me? That's all you ever do! Just yelling!"

"You don't listen any other way, Shiro!"

"Do you ever think that maybe I don't listen to you is cause I don't want to?" Shiro roared.

Ryoma took a deep breath. "Okay, why don't you want to listen to me?" He and Shiro both know the answer to his question, however, it was a question that needed to be asked. He watched the way his son drew back from him, taken aback that he'd even ask such a question as the frown on his face deepened.

"Why don't you go talk to your stupid girlfriend? She'll probably listen to you," Shiro sneered.

That was always his response. He couldn't find the words to articulate to his father that he was disrespecting his mother right in her own home, and right in front of her. So Shiro always responded the only way he knew how before turning to leave.

But Ryoma would always stand in his way, or sit him on the couch only to end up yelling at him some more. He never knew when to give up. He never knew how _tired_ Shiro was of saying the same thing a million times over. His father was a terrible man who didn't care about his family, so why should Shiro care about him?

After a month of screaming matches and heated arguments, they stopped talking to each other. Ryoma would drop him off and pick him up from school, make his dinner, and listened as Shiro lightly treaded up to is room quickly afterwards.

Shiro spent his time acting out and picking fights, anything he could do to shake off all the pent up anger and aggression he was holding in because his father failed to engage in any of the fights he tried to pick at home. His father spent day and night practically buried in his work.

He'd even take documents home with him to serve as a sort of distraction from Shiro's biting words. The words, "Not now, I'm working Shiro," became so familiar to the two of them, and as soon as the words left Ryoma's lips, Shiro would abandon his attempt to start a fight with him.

Their relationship grew distant. Saturday mornings weren't spent watching Captain Arthur with sugary cereal and in tidy-whities anymore. The backyard had gone untouched – no one dug for rocks anymore. The primroses, the very staple of their home, dried up and withered away.

Maybe it was for the best. That way, Scarlet couldn't see the relationship between her two favorite men deteriorate as slowly as she had.

On the last day of school, Shiro silently slipped a note to his father. Two words had already been highlighted in it: summer school. It didn't come as a shock to Ryoma, as his son was more focused on how he could start trouble rather than how he could fix his grades, but he did feel somewhat of a failure as a father for letting this happen.

"I'm not going," Shiro said quietly. If he was trying to pick a fight, it was working. Ryoma could already feel himself getting aggravated.

"Excuse me?" asked Ryoma. "Who said you get to decide? Your school says it's mandatory, meaning you have to go."

"Who goes to school over the summer? It's boring, and I'm never going to get to do any fun stuff!"

Ryoma tacked the note onto his cork board before highlighting the important dates. "Should have thought of that before you decided to slack off in school," Ryoma said casually. Shiro's only response was to huff. "Besides, if you don't go, you'll have to spend your entire summer with me."

And Ryoma could guarantee that Shiro would have more of a miserable time here with him than at school with other children his age. Shiro must've thought of the same thing too, because he seemed to change his tune almost instantly.

"Well, I'd rather go to boring old school than be stuck here with you," Shiro mumbled. When Ryoma didn't even spare him a single glance after such a comment, he promptly made his way upstairs to his room with the feeling of defeat looming over his head.

As soon as Shiro was out of the room, Ryoma heaved a heavy sigh. Just what was he supposed to do?

* * *

During Shiro's first day of summer school, news broke out that Takumi and his wife welcomed a healthy baby boy into the world. Ryoma got word from Sakura, who happened to drop by to check on Oboro. A few hours into her visit, her sister-in-law's water broke, and the two of them were rushed to the emergency room.

Listening to his younger siblings' retelling of events was amusing, especially the part where Takumi returned home to the front door left wide open, a trail of clear fluid running from the door to the living room, and seven variations of Sakura's frantic voicemails, featuring Oboro's quick, heavy breathing in the background.

It was the fifth week of Shiro's seven-week summer school program when Ryoma decided that the two of them would drive a few towns over to visit the new baby on Friday, after school. The entire drive there was mostly silent, save for a few catchy songs on the radio.

The only words uttered were from Shiro who asked Ryoma to change stations. As beautiful as Aqua's number one hit single was, neither of them wanted to listen to it right after every other song, so Ryoma obliged him.

Their whole demeanor seemed to change upon entering Takumi's home. He looked absolutely tired, but the reality of having a new addition to his family keeps the pure and joyful smile on his face. "Ryoma, Shiro! I feel like it's been ages since I've last seen you two."

"Uncle Takumi!" cried Shiro as he grinned ear to ear before rushing up to hug his uncle.

"Woah, woah! Don't knock me out of the doorway!" Takumi proceeded to lift Shiro up, taking a good look at his features. He looked almost exactly as Ryoma did when he was this age. However, that light trail of freckles across his face and on his shoulders could only have come from his mother. "You're getting pretty big huh? Ugh, and heavy too! I gotta put you back down, sheesh!"

Once back on the ground safely, Shiro scrambled to take off his shoes and darted off into the living room, babbling loudly about wanting to see the new baby. Takumi gave a small chuckle before turning to Ryoma. "Sorry about that. He's just got so much energy nowadays."

"Don't worry about it. I can appreciate his liveliness."

"Only because you don't have to keep him," said Ryoma half-jokingly before fully entering Takumi's home. The place still looks the same, with wooden flooring and their rustic-esque décor with the exception of the new baby furniture around. If anything, it makes their house look just a little homier.

"Where's the baaabyyy?" Shiro asked. "I wanna seee hiiim!"

"Shiro, please keep your voice down," said Ryoma.

All of a sudden, Shiro's gaze was practically piercing into him. That bright smile and childlike wonder his eyes held just a moment ago was no more. Before Shiro can call him a "killjoy" or something of the like, Takumi cut in. "Yeah, Oboro is sleeping right now, so we've got to keep quiet. But the baby is awake, so we can go see him now if you want."

And just like that, the childlike gleam in his eyes were back and bright as ever. "Yes!" Shiro cheered, but quietly enough as to not wake his aunt. Upon entering the nursery, little gurgling sounds could be heard coming from the crib.

Shiro watched as his uncle reached down into the crib, anticipating the moment he'd come back up with the tiniest little baby in his arms. When he did, Shiro couldn't keep himself from grinning ear to ear. The baby didn't have much hair except for a tuft of silver hair around the front of his face, and had the same amber colored eyes as his father.

"Heh," Ryoma chuckled as the baby held his finger in his tiny fist. "He's your spitting image. And he's got a pretty strong grip too."

"Yeah?" Takumi laughed. "He's gonna be a little rowdy one, I can already tell."

Chubby little arms reached out to Takumi's face, and he waved his large hand in front of his son's little ones. Then, he looked towards Shiro. "This is Kiragi," said Takumi with a heartfelt smile. Would you like to hold him?"

With a small chortle, Shiro readily held out his arms to receive the baby, only to have Takumi tell him that he must be sitting down to actually hold him. He took a seat in the rocking chair next to the bookcase, before carefully accepting his younger cousin. "Am… am I holding him right?"

"Almost," said Takumi, before moving to fix Shiro's arm. "There we go. A baby's head has to be supported properly, so you have to make sure you're holding his correctly, okay?"

"Got it!" Shiro affirmed before taking another look at Kiragi. He sure was making a lot of noise, but at least he was smiling. After another long look at him, Shiro said, "You know, he's got really big cheeks. I kinda wanna pop them with a pin."

Both Takumi and Ryoma shared alarmed looks before Ryoma said, "You better not."

Instead of saying something out loud, Shiro silently wished that his dad would butt out of everything and mind his own business.

As the sun began to set, Ryoma announced that he and Shiro should be getting home before the traffic hits. Although it is rather late, Shiro didn't want to leave. They'd only been there for a few hours, and he was having so much fun – way more fun than he ever could at home.

"I wanna stay here though," said Shiro. "Why do we have to go home now?"

After handing Shiro his pair of shoes, Ryoma straightened up. "It's getting late, so you need to tell Uncle Takumi goodbye for now. And you can go upstairs and tell Aunt Oboro and Kiragi goodbye as well."

Shiro groaned. "Ugh, but why do we have to go _now?_ "

"I'm not going to repeat myself Shiro. Let's go."

"Maybe I don't _wanna_ go back home with you," Shiro mumbled.

" _Excuse you?_ "

Before things could escalate any further, Takumi said, "Ryoma, it's okay. You can let him stay here until Sunday. Oboro and I don't mind."

Ryoma cast his son a stern look as he blew a raspberry at him before asking if Takumi was positively sure about this. "I mean, you already have your hands full with Kiragi, and I didn't bring any spare clothes for Shiro either."

"I'm sure. And he's got a few spare clothes around here that I can find if I looked hard enough. Besides, I haven't seen Shiro in a while. We've got a lot of catching up to do." This was Takumi's way of saying "Go home and relax. You two just need some time apart," and reluctantly, Ryoma agreed.

As strained as their relationship was, the two of them never really spent any time apart, but maybe this was for the best. "I'll leave him in your hands then." There wasn't an incentive to tell Shiro to behave himself this time.

He was getting exactly what he wanted, so he was sure to be on his best behavior. Their goodbye was the most awkward it's ever been. No hugs and no hair ruffling – just a quick "bye" and "see you on Sunday."

As Ryoma settled into his car and started the ignition, he could only hope that Takumi was right about all of this.

* * *

It was exactly 10:33 a.m. when Shiro emerged from bed on Saturday morning to head to the kitchen for some much needed breakfast. He faintly recalled his uncle waking him up to tell him that breakfast was ready earlier today, but he wasn't sure if he'd been dreaming or not.

On his way downstairs, he passed the nursery where Oboro and Kiragi were. With an enthusiastic smile, Shiro popped in to say "good morning" only for his voice to trail off halfway into greeting the two of them.

"Oh, good morning, Shiro," Oboro smiled. "Did you have a good sleep?"

"Uh-huh…" He nodded, eyes squinting slightly at the bizarre sight in front of him. There his cousin was, nestled in front of his mother's bare breast. He'd never seen anything like it before, and it was kind of weird. "Um, Aunt Oboro, what are you doing?"

"Hm? I'm feeding Kiragi breakfast," she answered. "Well, second breakfast. He's always hungry…"

"Okaaaay, but, why are you feeding him your boob?" He asked. "Can't he eat like a normal person?"

Oboro made a face, and gave a snort before giving a roar of laughter. "Oh Shiro, this is called breastfeeding, and it's how babies are fed. It's easier for them to have milk from their mommies than regular milk, so that's why I'm doing it. It's very common. I'm even sure your mom did it with you."

Shiro's face soured. His mother? Doing something like that to him? She'd _never!_ "My mom would never do that. That's gross."

It took all of Oboro's willpower to keep from laughing once more. "It's not gross, it's a part of life. Plenty of animals do it – dogs, cats – you name it. And I'm 90 percent sure your mom breastfed you."

At this point, Shiro placed his hands over his ears and began to walk out, leaving Oboro to giggle about his naivety. His hands dropped to his sides as soon as he saw his uncle in the kitchen. "There you are, sleepyhead." Takumi smiled. "I was wondering when you'd wake up."

The only thing Shiro could do was smile sheepishly. "Hehe, I was pretty tired last night. But I didn't just wake up. I was… upstairs… with Aunt Oboro."

Takumi placed a delicious looking omelet onto Shiro's plate, along with some rice. "Ah, so she was up there laughing a storm because of you," he said before moving to place the dish at the table. "What'd you say, Mr. Comedian?"

Shiro took his seat at the table and didn't waste time digging into his breakfast. "I wasn't being funny, she was being weird. She was feeding Kiragi all weird. And then she told me that my mom did it to me. Can you believe that?"

A small chuckle escaped past Takumi's lips. "Yes. Yes I can. Babies need their mom's milk because it's healthy for them."

He huffed. "My mom never did that."

"Don't think so, huh? Why don't you ask your dad?" At the mentioning of his father, Shiro grew quiet, and that's when Takumi knew that he hit on a very sensitive subject – one that needed to be touched on. "Hey Shiro, I want to know why you and your dad aren't getting along. You guys were really close. What happened to that?"

Shiro shrugged, but Takumi pressed a little harder. "You don't know? So you're telling me you're mad at him just because, and that there's no reason? I don't believe that for a second, Shiro. You're going to have to find a better excuse than that."

"It's not for no reason, it's just… he hates me, and he hates my mom too," said Shiro. "So why should I be nice to him if he's not nice to us?"

"What'd your dad do that was so bad?"

With a small sigh, Shiro began to explain everything he could in the best way that he could. He started off with the woman his father secretly brought home, then with the constant arguments they got into, and ended with how Ryoma would always wind up ignoring him.

"He always wanted to talk to me about him and that lady he invited over, but every time he did, he never apologized," Shiro told him. "So why should I talk to him when he's not even sorry about what he did? I don't even like being at home with him anymore."

"I see. I understand why you're angry. You think your dad is hurting your mom, and you feel hurt by that, right?" Takumi asked. Shiro nodded. "Well, as much as I understand it, this isn't the way to do things, Shiro. I… heard about all the fights and misbehaving at school, you know?"

He frowned. "Ugh, did Dad tell you that?"

"He did. He told me because he was worried about you, and that he didn't know what to do, or how to help you," Takumi explained. "Think about it – hurting other people for no reason other than the fact that you're angry at your dad – is that really such a good idea? If your mom were to see you acting like this, what would she say?"

Shiro's eyes widened. He never thought about it. What would she say to him? Would she side with him, and be angry at his father too? But, no matter how Shiro thought about it, he remembered how much his mom loved his dad. She could never be angry at him.

But could Shiro say the same thing about his father in regards to his mother?

"She… she'd pick my side right?" Shiro asked. "Because he picked another lady, and he shouldn't do that. It's wrong…"

"You think so?" Takumi asked. "Why shouldn't he pick another woman?"

"Because Mom loves him!" Shiro cried. "And… and even if he's lonely without her, I'm still here. So he doesn't need anybody else… he should be happy with us so, why does he hate us?"

Takumi's comforting hand rested on Shiro's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. His eyes began to sting, and the tears began to roll steadily down his cheek. "Your father doesn't hate you, this I know for a fact."

"Yeah right," Shiro mumbled.

"It's true," Takumi said. "He loves you more than you know, but he's also a little lonely without your mom. Even though she isn't here anymore, your dad knows that no one will replace her. I think she'd want you two to meet new people, and have new adventures. That would make her the happiest."

Shiro sat quietly, mulling over every single word that left his uncle's lips, but this was a little hard to grasp.

Takumi could tell that Shiro wasn't getting it, so he decided to put it into terms that his nephew would understand. "Let's say, in your entire rock collection, there's this cool-looking one that sparkles and is your favorite color. But then you lost it, never to find it again. Following me so far?"

Shiro nodded.

"Okay, so after you lost it, you grew sad. It was your favorite one, and you loved it more than anything. Even though you have a bunch of other rocks, that one was the best, and now it's gone. What would you do afterwards? Would you never pick up another stone ever again?"

Slowly, Shiro answered, "No… you keep looking. Every rock is different, and they all have things about them that make them special and – oh."

A smile broke out on Takumi's face. "See? You're starting to get it. The same goes with people too. We all know it's sad, to lose someone close to us, but you promise to never forget them as you keep living your life. Isn't that why you and your dad got all those flowers in the first place?"

He suggested getting them so that his mother could see how they lived, and how happy they were – and if she's happy with seeing how their lives are changing then… "Oh no… the flowers are all dead and she probably saw us fighting… She'd be really sad, wouldn't she?"

"Mhmm," Takumi nodded. "She wouldn't want to see that. And I think deep down, you and your dad don't want to keep fighting either. You're a good kid, Shiro, you just have to have another look at what made you upset and your father's side of things. Talk to him."

Takumi's words slowly sink in, changing the perspective he's held for so long. Shiro was a little nervous opening up to him again after all this time, but he knew his uncle was right. He should talk to him again.

* * *

On Saturday afternoon, Orochi agreed to see Ryoma again in person after a period of chatting over the phone. The first time they spoke was when Orochi called _him_ the day after he was told about Shiro fighting another student for no apparent reason.

She said something along the lines of, "You fool! Why didn't you tell me about your wife's passing?"

Apparently, he and Orochi shared a mutual friend, Kagero, who told her about Ryoma's late wife after Orochi complained about the terrible date. What a small world they lived in. Ryoma told her that he wanted to talk to her about it the day before, but something came up at his son's school, and their relationship had really taken a turn for the worst.

Ever since then, Orochi would send text messages of encouragement and would lend an ear whenever Ryoma needed to talk (and it was rare for him to share his problems with others, so when he did, Orochi felt as if she were someone he could trust).

As they sat down at a café for coffee, Ryoma explained how awkward saying goodbye to him yesterday was, and how he left with his heart feeling heavy. "I feel like the distance between us shouldn't have gotten this far, but it has, and I don't know what to do… he won't even let me in."

Orochi hummed in thought momentarily. "Hmm, like father like son…"

Ryoma's brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"The two of you seem to have trouble letting people in, it seems," she said before taking a sip of her coffee. "I'm curious though, how do you speak to him? What words do you use when you communicate with him? Those are key, you know."

How he spoke to him? Once he put some thought into it, he immediately felt ashamed. Shiro did say that he was always yelling at him when they were arguing. Nowadays, he didn't say much of anything. He sighed. "The way I've been talking to him hasn't been the best, or very effective… and it's so bad that I can't even approach him anymore. He doesn't want anything to do with me."

"Well, if you can't talk to him to tell him how you feel, do something to show him how you feel," said Orochi. "Something that says, 'I didn't mean to hurt you.'"

Ryoma tapped his finger on the small round table in thought before an idea struck him. "Ah! The primroses!"

"Primroses?" She parroted. "Hmm, I was sure he'd be into trucks or something."

"No, no," Ryoma said. "Those flowers are very important to him. They were his mother's favorite. We went out and purchased some for almost every room in the house, but since we've grown apart, we've never gone out to replace them anymore."

"Ohh, now that you mention it, I did see a bunch of them there the last time I visited. So that's why there were so many," Orochi said, more to herself than Ryoma. "I think it's a wonderful idea! Let's go get some now!"

Ryoma's eyes widened. "N-now? You want to buy them now?"

"Of course! Shiro comes back tomorrow, doesn't he? This is your only window of opportunity!" With that, the two of them left to fetch primroses at the flower shop (but not before Ryoma paid for their coffee and pastries at the café).

Orochi ordered dozens of them, way more than Ryoma thought he needed, and way too much for what he was currently carrying in his wallet at the time. However, Orochi was the one who offered to pay for them.

"Are you sure?" Ryoma asked. "I wouldn't want you to spend your money needlessly–"

"There you go again," she laughed. "I'm not needlessly spending my money. I'm buying a present for you and your family. Please tell me you'll accept it on behalf of them."

There was a tightness in Ryoma's chest, and there could've been one of two things causing it. Orochi's smiling face and kind gesture was one possibility. The other was that she recognized Scarlet as a part of his family, and not only purchased these flowers to mend the relationship between father and son, but to pay her respects to the woman who he and Shiro loved dearly.

All Ryoma could manage was a small, "thank you," and as the two of them left the flower shop, Ryoma turned to Orochi and said, "Let's try going on another date sometime. I think I'm truly ready this time, but only if you are too."

Orochi's smile this time was warm and rather gentle. "I'm ready whenever you are."

* * *

The drive back home was just as quiet as the drive to Takumi's house, but this time, Aqua's new hit single hadn't been playing at all today. If Shiro remembered correctly, a rather upbeat pop song from the singer Layla came on when his father asked him how his weekend went.

"Fine," was his answer. "It was fine… and yours?"

Ryoma looked shocked to hear him ask, and responded with a "Mine was fine as well," of his own. "Did… you have fun?"

"Mhmm," said Shiro who idly played with his Captain Arthur action figure. Every time there was a moment of silence between them, the awkwardness would practically seep in through the open windows of their car. It was almost suffocating.

Despite that fact, they said nothing to each other, even though Shiro so desperately wanted to ask his father if he truly hated him for the way he acted, and even though Ryoma wanted to ask what he could do to make things right between them.

So they continued their drive home in silence.

Once they were home, Shiro headed straight to his room. "I feel tired, so I'm going to bed," he said.

"It's only half past seven," Ryoma countered. "You usually go to bed at nine."

He knew that, but he needed some time to himself to "reevaluate" some things. Uncle Takumi taught him what the word meant yesterday. "Yeah, but I'm tired."

"I see," said Ryoma quietly. "Well, I won't keep you up any longer. Goodnight, Shiro."

"G'night Dad."

As soon as Shiro stepped into his room, the faint smell of fresh flowers filled the air. Primroses, with little droplets of water threatening to spill from their white petals, rested in a vase on his windowsill. They looked so fresh and vibrant – when did his father have the time to replace them?

After closing the door behind him, Shiro slowly made his way over to the bouquet, staring at them in awe. His father really did care. He must have if he brought so many of them while the two of them apart.

Tears ran down reddened cheeks as he stared directly into the yellow eyes of the primroses. Could his mother actually see him? And if so, was she able to see all terrible things he'd done to the people around him.

Just the thought of it made him sob. All his mother got to see was how mean he'd been to his father, and all she got to hear was the yelling between the two of them, and how awful he'd been to the rest of his classmates.

Silently, he wished he could just disappear – never to be seen again.


	4. Are You Watching?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And at long last the story is complete (technically. There's an epilogue that will come hopefully soon). Thank you kindly Mr. P.T. Piranha for being my beta and putting up with me. Hope y'all enjoy it.

The sun was brutal, it practically roasted anyone who'd left the comfort of their air-conditioned homes. Today's weather wasn't even kind enough to muster even one refreshing breeze, and Shiro and Asugi were starting to regret their decision to go to the park.

The two of them could barely scrape together the coins in their pockets to buy an ice cream to share, and the pool wasn't in walking distance. All they could do was lay sprawled out on the grass with shallow breathing and eyes shut gently in an attempt to block out the sun.

After his weekend at his uncle's house, Shiro had spent a great deal of time thinking about the relationship between him and his father, and about himself. The two of them weren't arguing anymore, but they certainly weren't as close as they were a year ago.

Now they just existed together. They said good morning to each other and they said goodnight to each other, but there was nothing in between that. And Shiro could see when his father would fix his mouth to say something to him, but he didn't want to hear anything just yet. He wasn't ready yet.

Not until he figured out a few things about himself.

"What kind of person am I?" he asked suddenly.

Asugi didn't say anything for a moment, processing Shiro's question in much needed silence. His brow furrowed, and his lips curled into a frown. "What are you even talking about?" asked Asugi.

"Exactly what I said," Shiro pressed on. "What kind of person am I?"

"I mean, you're cool. I wouldn't hang out with you if you weren't." Asugi hummed in thought for a moment. "You suck at video games though."

Shiro's eyebrows quirked in annoyance. "That's not what I meant. I wanna know if I'm a good kid or not."

Slowly, Asugi sat up. "Why?"

"We went around fighting people and being rude to teachers," Shiro said, finally opening his eyes. "That was so mean of us… but even though we did that, my uncle and my dad still think I'm a good kid. I don't understand it."

"We are good kids," said Asugi. "We just raise hell cause that's what kids do. Or, at least that's what my dad says."

"That's not true. I… I know why I did all that stuff, and it wasn't just 'cause I could," said Shiro. His heart was starting to feel heavy, and queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach wasn't doing anything for his current mood.

"…It's 'cause of your mom, right?"

Shiro's eyes widened, his breath is caught in his chest. Was is all just so obvious? Was the way his family fell apart so transparent to the world? He remembered once when a teacher scolded him for teasing another student. _What would his parents say?_

His mother was dead and his father didn't care.

That was what he said.

He never stopped to consider how his mother would feel until Uncle Takumi brought it up, and he never would have if Takumi hadn't said anything. Because those who brought up his mother knew nothing about him or his family.

They were the same people who teased him about his mother, and didn't do much to the children that hurt him, so why would their opinions on how his mother felt about his behavior matter?

With a slow exhale, Shiro breathed, "Yeah."

"What happened to her?" Asugi asked. "I just know that she died and you don't like talking about her, so I never asked."

"My dad told me it was an accident, and she got hit on the head with a rock," said Shiro. It had been a little more complicated than that. She and a few coworkers went into an abandoned cave when they received word that a few college kids set foot inside. Some of the stalactites in the cave, as well as a few from the walls, began to fall.

Scarlet was one of the few that that suffered fatal injuries. Some of the students that went inside were retrieved with non-lethal injuries. The story was huge – covered by all the local news channels. Shiro couldn't understand it when it first happened, but now that he was older, he kind of resented the ones who made his mother go inside of that cave in the first place.

As of late, Shiro constantly thought of how he handled situations in the past, and he was beginning to wonder if his resentment towards those people whose faces he didn't know was justified.

"I'm real sorry about your mom," said Asugi, voice quiet. "I didn't know it was that bad… I mean, it'd still be bad if it happened another way but, y'know, it just–"

"Sucks?" Shiro finished.

"Yeah," Asugi nodded. "Y'know, I remember in the first grade when you'd always talk about her – said you wanted to do that whole rock thing just like her. What happened to that?"

Shiro moved to sit up, brown eyes staring directly into curious green ones. "I dunno… I just feel like, with all the stupid stuff I did, I don't really think I should keep it anymore."

With the way he treated his father, his classmates, and even his father's friend (Orochi, he remembered her name instead of calling her his mother's replacement), Shiro didn't think he even deserved to follow in his mother's footsteps.

The box with his rock collection, as well as his wyvern plushie Crimson, sat underneath his bed, collecting a rather thin layer of dust. Every unique rock he came across on the way to school was ignored, as much as he didn't want to ignore them.

As much as Shiro felt that he didn't deserve to keep it anymore, he couldn't find it in himself to part with it. Precious memories from his mother were still in there, and he felt it'd also be disrespectful to part with it.

So for a while longer, the box continued to collect dust.

* * *

During the first few weeks of school, everyone had slowly begun to realize that Shirasagi Elementary School's Devilish Duo wasn't quite so devilish after all.

The only fight that occurred during that time was over pudding during lunch period, and neither Shiro nor Asugi had anything to do with it, much to the surprise of their peers. There were no more meetings between the two at recess to plan the next big prank, and there was no more aggression during gym class.

Their teachers considered it a blessing. Many of the students thought of it as the calm before the storm. They waited for one of them to finally explode, and pick on their next victim. A few students even went the extra mile to try and provoke Shiro into fighting again.

And maybe Asugi would jump in just because.

But no matter how hard they tried, it was as though Shiro was in his own world. He could barely focus on their biting words, lost in thoughts of his broken family and what kind of person he was. It didn't take long before everyone stopped paying attention to him. Attempting to get Shiro to lash out proved to be more challenging than anything, and their teachers would not tolerate bullying, even if Shiro was infamous around the entire school.

Shiro was sure that if he wasn't so tired all the time, he would have fought back, even though his father explained a long time ago that he couldn't hurt people because they made him angry. However, there was just no fight left in him. He spent his nights up until gods know how late, playing his handheld video game to keep himself from thinking about how badly he'd hurt others.

During the day, he could barely keep his eyes open. When his father came to wake him, it felt as if his eyes had only closed for a second. The cold spray of shower water always jolted him awake before it turned warm, but his eyes always seemed to feel heavy when he was well into the school day.

On one day in particular, his head hit the desk, and he slept for about five minutes until he could hear his teacher's shrill voice yank him out of his slumber.

"Shiro! Mitama!" she cried. "Since you two are so keen on sleeping in my class, the two of you can go stand outside right now!"

A couple of his classmates chuckled while others collectively went "Ohhhh, you got in trouble!"

And as Shiro trudged behind his classmate out into the hallway with his hands in his pockets and his lips curled into a frown, his teacher went on to cry, "And don't come back in here until I tell you that you can come back, is that understood?"

The door shut right as she finished speaking, and neither child had the desire to open the door and reply "Yes, ma'am," so the two stood side by side in silence for a while. The two were never in a class together until this year, but this wasn't Shiro's first time meeting her.

She lived right across the street from Asugi's house, and although they've shared a few conversations, the two never really spent much time together. Shiro could feel his eyebrow twitch in irritation when she let out the most obnoxious yawn.

"Do you have to be that loud?" he asked.

"No," she began, "but it's the only way I can express my anger about being woken up." Then, she let out another yawn.

Come to think of it, Mitama was always sleeping, and as a result, she was always told to go stand outside in the hall. It was a wonder why she got mad at all. Wasn't she used to it? Even so, Shiro's first instinct wasn't to question her, but to agree with her. He had some steam to blow off as well.

"Yeah, her weird voice was super annoying," Shiro grumbled, folding his arms across his chest.

"It is," she agreed. "I'm surprised though. I didn't think you'd get in trouble for sleeping in class."

Of course she didn't. "You thought I'd get in trouble for fighting," he said flatly.

"Mhmm. My dad says that when kids get rowdy and fight, it's a sign of bad home training and parenting."

"Well, your dad can go shove it," Shiro huffed, not missing a beat.

Mitama didn't seem very offended by his words. Instead, she shrugged. "My dad just likes to talk. Just because he says that doesn't mean it's true. But, I can tell him you said that, if you want me to."

Shiro's brow furrowed. "Uh, no. You don't have to do that."

"That's okay," Mitama started. "Asugi's dad has said it to him a bunch of times from across the street, so I don't think he's missing out on anything."

Leave it to Asugi's hotheaded father to make hurling insults at neighbors a morning ritual.

Another silence enveloped them before Mitama gave a small sigh. "I think we're missing out on a math lesson."

"I suck at math, so I don't really care," said Shiro.

"I'm okay at math, but I like our writing lessons better." There was a smile on Mitama's face for once, and Shiro remembered that writing lessons were the only thing she bothered to stay awake for. "My favorite thing was learning about poems. I write them all the time now."

"Poems about what?" he asked.

"About my dreams and stuff like that," she answered simply. "I can come up with a poem about you too."

He waited for her to think on it before she snapped her fingers with a triumphant smirk. "Shiro – bold and loud. Always so energetic. Why does he look sad?"

"…Are you asking?"

"No, I was telling you my poem," Mitama answered. "But if you wanted to answer, you can. Asugi tells me nothing."

That was because Asugi himself didn't know anything until right before summer vacation ended. "I can't really answer you.

"Don't answer, it's fine. I hope you feel better soon. A sad Shiro is weird." A pause. "Oh, I think I messed up somewhere."

A sad Shiro was weird indeed, but he just couldn't help it. There wasn't much that made him smile genuinely anymore.

* * *

Nine times out of ten, a test given back by a teacher while turned on its blank side meant that a student failed horribly. Only in rare cases was it turned over to trick a student into thinking they failed when they went above and beyond by somehow managing to score 103 points.

Shiro knew that this wasn't a rare case, but turned over his math test anyway to take a look at his grade. "50" was written at the top of his paper in red ink, along with his teacher's sloppy cursive. It was a good thing she told him, "Make sure your father signs this test, that way I know he's seen it," as she passed by his desk. Otherwise, he would have just thrown it in the trash.

He gave a small sigh before hitting his head lightly on his desk. Shiro really didn't want to bring this test home, but if he didn't, it would have certainly been brought up during parent teacher meetings in October, and he'd rather not get into an argument with his father.

"Sheesh, what a low grade," Asugi's voice cut through the low chatter of their classmates. "Turn it over. Don't you care if people see?"

"Everyone knows I suck at math, so what's the point?" Shiro grumbled, head still on the desk. "'Sides, you don't care if people see your bad grades, why should I?"

He hummed in thought. "You got a point there."

"What'd you even get anyway?" Shiro asked. Asugi flashed his test paper for his best friend to see, and when Shiro turned his head to see the 85 that sat on the top of the paper, he groaned. "Well we all can't be geniuses like you."

Asugi gave a snort. "Math is, like, the only thing I'm good at. I bombed the history test we got last week."

Shiro lifted his head from the desk to shoot Asugi an inquiring look. "Your dad doesn't get mad at you for failing?"

"Eh, yeah but he only finds out a while later."

"So how do you get him to sign your tests?" Shiro asked.

Green eyes glazed over the classroom before looking back to Shiro. "I don't. My mom does it. Well, when she can anyway." Sometimes his mother would go out on business trips, and Asugi would hold out on getting it signed until she returned. "It's a lot easier than dealing with my dad."

"Oh," Shiro started, "I guess she's nicer about it than your dad?"

"I mean, I guess she is. She just looks sad when I come back with a bad grade," he said. "I feel bad when she looks like that so it makes me wanna do better."

Briefly, Shiro wondered if his mother would look sad if he brought home a failing grade. It didn't seem like the kind of thing his mother would do. He could definitely see her giving him a noogie and telling him to hit the books.

"Can we pretend to have the same mom?" Shiro asked. "That way, she can sign my stuff too?"

"Yeah? And have you pretend to be my little brother? No thanks," Asugi laughed.

Shiro rolled his eyes. "No one even wants to be your brother, you clown," he joked.

As the two of them bantered back and forth, the low grade on Shiro's math test was temporarily forgotten until he went back home.

* * *

"A fifty, Shiro?" Ryoma asked, eyes hardening at the test paper before him before he glanced over at his son. Shiro couldn't even meet his gaze, as his was cast off to the side. As serious as this situation was, there was a small comfort that Ryoma found in all of this – that Shiro actually handed him the failed test in the first place.

Before Shiro came home, the school's counselor had called, saying that he was told that Shiro hadn't been completing any of his homework and asked if everything was alright. Although things between them could have been better, Ryoma assured the counselor that he would have everything under control.

Hopefully.

Ryoma thought he would have to ask Shiro to pull out all the assignments he missed, or that another argument would break out between the two of them when he confronted him about it. Instead, as soon as Shiro came home, he pulled the test right out of his bag and asked Ryoma to sign it.

Shiro may have been rambunctious and foolhardy, but Ryoma also knew his son to be honest (sometimes brutally so). It was one of his best attributes.

A sigh escaped him, and Ryoma ran his free hand through his mess of a mane. "I got a phone call from school too. About you not doing your homework."

Now it was Shiro's turn to sigh, but this one was out of exasperation. "Of course you got a phone call home – because no one trusts me enough to tell the truth."

"You know, Shiro, you were the one who told me that you could do homework just fine on your own, and that you did homework with Asugi." When he was met with silence, Ryoma pressed on, "Shiro, if there's anything bothering you, I want you to talk to me about it. Please."

A heavy silence filled the air, but Shiro was so positive that his heart was beating so loudly that his father could hear it too. So many things had been bothering him. _You bother me. Mom bothers me. This whole thing bothers me._

But nothing bothered Shiro more than his embarrassment. How his actions always seemed to return to him, no matter how much he tried to forget. The silence between Shiro and his father, the primroses that seemed to be replaced as soon as they showed signs of wilting – he tried so hard to block everything out, but nothing was working.

His fists balled up at his sides, and his lips trembled. The tears in his eyes welled up so high that everything became a blur. They rolled down his cheeks as he opened his mouth to speak, but instead of words, Shiro began to cry.

In an instant, Ryoma fell to his knees, paper discarded carelessly on the floor as he took his son into his arms. Each heave of his shoulders made Ryoma's embrace tighten ever so slightly, and each sniffle seemed to break his heart further.

One hand moved to rest on top of Shiro's head, while the other rubbed soothing circles into his back. "It's okay, Shiro. Dad's here," he spoke, unsure if Shiro could hear him over his own crying. The last time Ryoma remembered hugging Shiro like this was when he was six years old, a year after his mother died.

It was right after a big fight broke out between them, and it was the night that Ryoma promised to be the best father he could. Once Shiro had settled down, Ryoma let out somewhat of a plaintive sigh. "I'm so sorry, Shiro. I promised you that I'd be the best father I possibly could, but all I've done was made you feel like you couldn't trust me. I want to make things right. Tell me what you want me to do. What makes _you_ happy?"

Shiro gently pulled away from his father's hug, and wiped away his tears with the sleeve of his shirt. "N-No…" he sniffled. "I'm not mad at you. I mean, I was but… it's not your fault. I was just being dumb."

"Don't say that," Ryoma started. "You're allowed to feel angry. You're allowed to be upset."

"But I didn't have to–" Shiro cut himself off, and took a deep breath in, then out. "I was really mean to you and a lot of people at school. And I kinda liked being that way because I thought everyone else was being mean to me. I thought you hated me and mom, so if I hated you, then we'd be even."

There was a slight pang in Ryoma's chest as he listened to Shiro's words. "Son, I could never hate you. Sometimes, I get frustrated, and I admit, I don't deal with it properly, but I would never hate you, or your mother."

"I know," he breathed. "Uncle Takumi talked to me about it, so I… thought about it. I thought you didn't love Mom and me 'cause of Orochi, like you were gonna replace us. I know that's not true. I should have just gave her a chance and let you explain…"

"So, I've just been thinking about that. And all the mean stuff I did because I thought you didn't care. I thought about it so much that I never did any of my homework, and I never studied like I was supposed to. I just played video games and sat in my room all day…" Shiro paused. "Oh, and I guess I haven't been doing my homework because I'm not good at math either…"

A laugh escaped Ryoma's lips, and he ruffled Shiro's hair. It was something that Shiro couldn't remember his father doing for the longest time, and the gesture made him feel warm. "Okay then. I think I'll just have to help out with math homework then. Sound good?"

"Yeah," Shiro nodded, managing to smile weakly.

The smile on Ryoma's face vanished, and a look of earnestness took its place. "Shiro, listen to me. No one could ever replace your mother. And you… you're too precious to me to imagine my life without."

Brown eyes widened in surprise. "Do you mean that?"

"I do," Ryoma spoke, "and I'm sorry I made you question that, even for a second."

Shiro moved to wrap his father in a big hug, and Ryoma returned it. "I love you, Dad."

"And I love you," he smiled. "Oh, before I forget, Orochi wanted to know how you were doing. I remember her saying that she had a present for you."

Shiro scrambled to break away from his father before shaking his head no. "Tell her she doesn't need to give me a present! But… I wanna see her so I can say that I'm sorry. And if she's going to be my new mom… I'll be okay with it."

"Woah, woah! Don't you think 'new mom' is pushing it?" Ryoma said, panicked. "Orochi is… a friend. So please, don't mention 'new mom' around her, alright?"

"Oh, okay! I won't mention it!" Shiro laughed. His smile faltered for a moment. "Hey Dad, so we're cool now, right?"

"Of course."

"Do you think Mom knows that we are? 'Cause I'm sure she didn't like seeing us fight… _I_ don't like it when we fight."

Ryoma looked to the primroses on the side table in the hall. It was almost funny how a child's belief in his mother's words caused flowers to be a staple of their home. The flowers practically revolved around their life. Or was it them that revolved around the flowers? "I'm positive she knows. She can see everything, after all."

A feeling of relief swept through Shiro. He had apologized to the primroses in his bedroom a million times over, unsure if his mother could actually forgive him for what he'd done. With his father's reassurance, there felt as if there had been a weight lifted off Shiro's shoulders.

"Dad? Do you think uh… this weekend, like on Saturday, we can go in the back yard and look for rocks?" he asked tentatively. "You know, like we used to?"

A grin broke out on Ryoma's face. "What's this? My boy still wants to be a 'geolographist'? To 'ecibate' rocks?" he teased.

Shiro could feel his cheeks grow warm. "Ugh, Dad! Cut that out! I was a little kid back then – I know how to say those words properly now!"

"Back then?" he asked. "Shiro, you're still a little kid."

"Nuh-uh! I'm big and strong!" he cried before flexing his muscles. "Look at these guns! There as big as Captain Arthur's!"

"Oh yeah? Are they as strong as Captain Arthur's? Because I doubt it," Ryoma shot back.

Shiro rolled up his sleeves, taking a rather aggressive stance. "Watch me, old man! I'm gonna beat you up!"

"'Old man'?" Ryoma muttered in disbelief before Shiro pounced on him with a shout. "Oh! Someone doesn't play fair – attacking Dad when he's not paying attention!"

"Well then pay attention next time!"

The house was filled with shrill laughter when Ryoma picked Shiro up over his head and spun him around, and their little wrestling match (which Ryoma never let Shiro forget that he won) ended almost five minutes later before Shiro was told to do his homework.

This time, Ryoma sat at the table to help Shiro whenever he needed it.

Things just seemed to fall into place, as if there had never been a point in time where the two of them were angry with each other. They ate chicken for dinner (and Shiro made sure to tell his father he preferred barbeque chicken) and caught up on all the episodes of _Captain Arthur and Percy, Boy Wonder_ that they missed out on together.

And after washing up and getting ready for bed, Shiro reached out to grab his father's hand. "Dad, stay here with me."

Ryoma's brow furrowed. "Shiro, I absolutely _cannot_ fit in that bed. Especially with you."

"Then I can sleep on your stomach! Just like I did when was littler!" he beamed.

"Shiro…"

"Pleeeeeaaaase?"he begged, and the next thing Ryoma knew, he was squished into a child's bed with his son draped over him haphazardly. Boy, he couldn't _wait_ for the terrible neck pains he'd receive in the morning. However, Ryoma was willing to endure it if it made Shiro happy.

His eyes found the primroses at Shiro's bedside. Underneath the moonlight, yellow eyes stared right back at him. He smiled.

_We're alright now. Shiro and I are going to be just fine._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I just wanted to say that this fic was inspired by a piece of art done by captain-eurobeat on Tumblr.
> 
> http://captain-eurobeat.tumblr.com/post/145781614256/i-want-to-hear-you-laugh-again-i-want-you-to
> 
> He had freckles and everything, so I knew I had to write this as soon as I saw it.


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